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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25318441">My Peace Has Always Depended On All The Ashes In My Wake</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrumblingirl/pseuds/thegrumblingirl'>thegrumblingirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dishonored (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Battle Couple, Daud won't confess unless he's bleeding out, Emily sips tea and rolls her eyes, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Near Death, POV Daud (Dishonored), Pining, Post-Dishonored (Video Game), Requited Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, and Corvo's not having it, even tho they don't know it yet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:06:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,314</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25318441</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrumblingirl/pseuds/thegrumblingirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When he found himself kneeling at the edge of the folding blade, Daud knew, for the first time in his life, fear — not of death or the Void, but of unfinished business. He watched that gruesome mask judge him and his work, thoughts reeling: what would be worth, to Corvo, the sparing of one more life while high above them the wheel of fate spun round and round?</p>
<p>“You see,” Daud rattled, “I had rather hoped to love you until the day I died.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Corvo Attano/Daud</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>188</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>My Peace Has Always Depended On All The Ashes In My Wake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>SO BASICALLY. I went through my notes for Stories of the Street again to look for any leftover hints for You Want It Darker (which I want to pick up again soon), and I found a lone post-it. All it said was "I had hoped to love you until the day I died," and I remembered wanting to use it in assassins but not finding the right place for it. About fifteen seconds passed, me staring dumbly at the post-it, and then my brain decided to grow legs and RUN. This is the result. Have fun.</p>
<p>Title taken from Hozier's <em>Arsonist's Lullaby</em>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been too soon, was the simple truth.</p>
<p>"He's working too fast," Daud had growled to himself, standing in the Chamber, bent over plans of Draper's Ward. The night before, the Masked Felon had assaulted Esma Boyle at the estate, fatally wounding her. Daud had projected the masked man to strike at the Boyles' annual masquerade — a much better cover, and a darkly symbolic one at that. Perhaps Attano wasn't much for symbolism, these days. Or perhaps he was impatient. And it seemed the Loyalists were losing hold of him.</p>
<p>At any rate, Daud knew full well he was coming. For him, for his Whalers.</p>
<p>And Daud hadn't yet settled his accounts.</p>
<hr/>
<p>When he found himself kneeling at the edge of the folding blade, Daud knew, for the first time in his life, fear — not of death or the Void, but of unfinished business. He watched that gruesome mask judge him and his work, thoughts reeling: what would be worth, to Corvo, the sparing of one more life while high above them the wheel of fate spun round and round?</p>
<p>“You need me,” he grated. He felt steel nipping at the skin of his throat. “To save Emily.”</p>
<p>The pricking lessened.</p>
<p>“You know where Havelock has taken her?”</p>
<p>Daud had never heard his voice before.</p>
<p>“This has nothing to do with your little conspiracy,” Daud returned, reminding himself too late to tread lightly. “It’s about someone far more dangerous.”</p>
<p>Attano shifted his weight.</p>
<p>“Brigmore?” he asked. Evidently, he’d seen the plans, and found Daud’s most recent instructions to the scouting party.</p>
<p>Daud nodded, gingerly.</p>
<p>“A witch’s coven,” he said.</p>
<p>“Are you trying to buy my mercy?”</p>
<p>“No,” Daud answered without hesitation. “Only a chance to settle a score.” With the witch or with the Outsider, would remain Daud’s secret to tell.</p>
<p>The sword nearly sliced him open as it retreated back into its folding mechanism.</p>
<p>“Show me.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Daud thought often of that day now as he sat, more often than not, in Corvo’s office at Dunwall Tower, deliberating a fresh stack of reports on Emily’s continued safety — which he worked to ensure.</p>
<p>It was absurd.</p>
<p>As were his feelings for the man sitting across from him. Ill-gotten, <em>uninvited</em>, <em>dangerous</em> feelings that, truly, would just do nobody any good. Least of all him. Nor his chances of survival, should they ever be revealed to Corvo.</p>
<p>“Coin for your thoughts,” Corvo prompted then from the other side of the desk, sounding amused. <em>Fond</em>, Daud’s mind idiotically supplied, and he cast the thought back into the Void from whence it came. Corvo held no fondness for him or anybody, aside from his daughter and the few people in his acquaintance he had no cause to call traitor. It was a lonely life, that of the Royal Protector and Spymaster, now that they were one and the same. Emily had recently suggested handing more of the latter's responsibilities over to Daud, who had very nearly spat out the coffee he had let Corvo press into his hands when he'd arrived for the meeting; and not because Corvo might have forgotten how he took it. (He hadn't.)</p>
<p>Corvo had explained (for any given definition of the term) that that was not on the table, and Daud had said absolutely nothing. Emily, in turn, had dropped the subject but muttered something that had sounded suspiciously like “joined at the hip,” which Corvo had graciously opted to ignore and Daud had lost an hour of sleep over that night.</p>
<p>“Hatters,” Daud rumbled now to distract from the perilous turn his thoughts had taken. He lifted the report he'd been reading. “They're planning something.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>A week later, Daud almost regretted bringing it up. Crawling through the sewers, yet again, could make him regret a lot of his choices lately. Gritting his teeth, he wondered that perhaps the Outsider's favourites were all doomed to become what their powers made them to be — and Attano was certainly a sewer rat.</p>
<p>“This had better pay off,” he said, his light tone belying the implicit threat. (Threat of what, exactly, no-one needed to know.)</p>
<p>“If anyone can put the Hatters in their places, it's you,” Corvo said, and if Daud didn't know better, he'd swear he was being <em>flattered</em>.</p>
<p>“Don't butter me up, Attano,” he growled over his shoulder.</p>
<p>“My apologies.” Now, Corvo <em>sounded</em> contrite, but Daud could practically hear the infuriating smirk.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The Hatters had, indeed, been planning something.</p>
<p>“Well,” Daud said, “at least I get my wish.”</p>
<p>Corvo, looking around frantically, grunted as he heaved Daud further down the corridor. “What in the Void are you talking about?”</p>
<p>Daud coughed again, hiding his mouth behind his fist. “It’s nothing.”</p>
<p>Corvo found an unlocked door and manhandled Daud through it into the room beyond. Struggling towards a dusty settee, he helped Daud to sit down.</p>
<p>“Out with it,” he prompted, if only to keep Daud talking. Conscious.</p>
<p>Daud was quiet, watched Corvo working quickly to open his coat and vest and <em>damn these layers</em>. When he answered, it was as Corvo was propping him up while he pushed heavy fabric out of the way.</p>
<p>“You see,” Daud rattled, “I had rather hoped to love you until the day I died.”</p>
<p>Corvo’s hold on him very nearly slipped.</p>
<p>Daud fought to look away, not wanting to <em>see</em>. But his gaze was drawn unerringly down when he heard Corvo say, grim and determined:</p>
<p>“You’re not going to die here, then.”</p>
<p>He convinced himself that his heart then skipped because of the bullet lodged an inch or two beside it.</p>
<p>“Corvo—“</p>
<p>“Save your strength,” Corvo said, quietly. “I need you calm for this.”</p>
<p>“Says the surgeon,” Daud managed before the burn of elixir in the open wound took his breath away.</p>
<hr/>
<p>He was half delirious by the time Corvo made it to the Tower, Daud practically slung over his shoulders, fairly bleeding over everything. Daud remembered, through the haze, Toksvig’s office and the small operating theatre tucked away. Then, only Void.</p>
<p>Snatches, then, of murmured conversations, muted by poppy seed. He supposed he was in a bed.</p>
<p>A figure, looming over him, familiar.</p>
<p>‘Show me.’</p>
<p>No, no, not that. That was wrong.</p>
<p>His hand, closing around something. Not the hilt of a sword. Softer. Still strong.</p>
<p>Where was he?</p>
<hr/>
<p>Next when he woke, he rather wished he hadn’t — for both more and less obvious reasons. The more obvious one was the feeling of cotton in his mouth and the pounding tension behind his eyes.</p>
<p>He grunted, then moaned when he tried to move, his back aching, only to find his chest as though carved up with a rusty cleaver. <em>Shit</em>.</p>
<p>“Easy,” a voice from his right, deep and throaty, as though after a long night. “Daud, easy.” A hand on his shoulder, so heavy. “You’re alright.”</p>
<p>Daud very much doubted that. He blinked open his eyes properly, doing his best to focus, and there was Corvo, down to his shirtsleeves but still wearing the previous day’s clothes overall, looking worn out.</p>
<p>“What are you doing here,” Daud barely managed to enunciate, and averted his eyes before he could see the shadows fall over Corvo’s expression.</p>
<p>“Toksvig had other patients to attend to. We weren’t the only ones caught in a skirmish with the Hatters last night,” Corvo answered. “And I could hardly let anyone else watch over you.”</p>
<p>“No-one said you had to,” Daud returned.</p>
<p>“You nearly died,” Corvo said, so quietly determined, and it reminded Daud, with one clear moment, of what he’d <em>done</em>.</p>
<p>Something akin to pain lanced through Daud, quick and sharp as a bullet. It cracked inside him, and a hot web of shame ran through his chest. Oh, would that the Void had taken him. Why couldn’t he have done the decent thing and <em>died</em>? He waited. Waited for Corvo to tell him, to <em>let him down gently,</em> because damn the man but that’s what he’d do. Waited for Corvo to suggest it might be time to move on. Like he’d always planned to.</p>
<p>He’d suggested it, to Corvo, after the journey from Kingsparrow Island to the Void, to Delilah. Still reeling, panting, he had told him, “I would not trade my life for this,” he’d pointed at the ritual altar, “but I would trade it for my secrets. Anything else I know, and then I would leave. I have enough of killing, and of Dunwall. Everything I’ve done, and have I accomplished more than you, or much less? I only wish to fade, now, from people’s memories.” He’d turned to Corvo fully. “Let me go, and you will never see me again.”</p>
<p>“All your secrets?” Corvo had asked.</p>
<p>Daud had nodded. “I’ve never lied to you, bodyguard.”</p>
<p>And now, five years later, the last of his secrets was out.</p>
<p>“Corvo,” he <em>wanted</em> to say, but managed little more than a croak.</p>
<p>“I’ll fetch you some water,” Corvo said, getting up before Daud could stop him, not that he could have done <em>much</em> beyond reach for him with heavy limbs.</p>
<p>To add insult to injury, Corvo returned with a small glass and helped Daud drink it down, slowly, his hand burning at the back of Daud’s neck. Daud wanted to push him away, all the while hating himself for craving that touch.</p>
<p>“The Hatters were arrested,” Corvo said, as if à propos of fucking <em>nothing</em>, “and the one who shot you is in Coldridge, awaiting trial in the morning.”</p>
<p>Daud frowned. “What time is it?”</p>
<p>“Just before dawn. You weren’t out for long.”</p>
<p>Daud wanted to groan. “Explains why I feel like shit, then.”</p>
<p>“You should rest,” Corvo prompted.</p>
<p>Daud said nothing.</p>
<p>“I’ll stay,” Corvo offered, but said nothing else. Daud felt betrayed — by himself, by Corvo, by the entire world for all he cared. For all that <em>the world</em> cared. Corvo seemed content to sit, not so much watching Daud as holding vigil, and wait for absolutely nothing.</p>
<p>Why wouldn’t he <em>say</em> anything?</p>
<p>“Corvo,” Daud tried again, his voice smoother this time. His eyes were getting heavier, and the darkness was reaching for him. No, not yet.</p>
<p>“Sleep, Daud.”</p>
<p>Belatedly, Daud realised that the water must have been laced with poppy. <em>Bastard.</em></p>
<hr/>
<p>Daud slept until it was night again. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in Corvo’s quarters, evident by the clothes draped over the back of a chair by the bed he was in, and the scent of him on the air and the sheets. Daud grunted like a wounded bear. Was there no indignity he might be spared?</p>
<p>“Daud?” The voice came from the next room, Corvo’s office, and not a moment later the man himself appeared in the doorway.</p>
<p>“Go away,” Daud grated without charity or, frankly, gratitude.</p>
<p>“Not likely, seeing as this is my bedroom,” Corvo returned placidly.</p>
<p>“Didn’t ask,” Daud returned.</p>
<p>“There was nowhere else to put you,” Corvo answered yet again with that air of being absolutely fine with running out of options. He walked over and turned the chair so he could sit beside the bed facing Daud. “How are you feeling?”</p>
<p>“Wish I weren’t,” Daud said before he could stop himself. He winced, unable to stop that, either.</p>
<p>“Daud,” Corvo chided. Or perhaps he was just resigned.</p>
<p>Finally, Daud looked over at him properly. “Just say it,” he rumbled. “So we can get it over with.”</p>
<p>“What do you think I’m going to say?” Corvo wondered out loud.</p>
<p>Daud eyed him critically. Did he truly care to know?</p>
<p>“Give me a week,” he said softly. “Then I’ll take my leave.”</p>
<p>"A week! Daud, you were shot in the chest, you're not going anywhere before Timber."</p>
<p>“Don’t play games with me, Corvo,” Daud felt too close to pleading to make it a threat.</p>
<p>“Is that what you imagine me doing?” Corvo’s voice rang with hurt.</p>
<p>Daud discovered that it was physically unwise to shrug.</p>
<p>“Alright, I’ll play,” Corvo said, and leaned forward in the chair, elbows on his knees. “What in the Void were you thinking?” Corvo’s gaze was stern, but Daud could see the cracks and fractures. Places were the light got in. “To tell me you loved me and then to resolve to <em>die</em>?” Corvo’s eyes were shining now. “Were you so sure of your own rejection?”</p>
<p>Daud could barely breathe, and not entirely for the wound in his chest. “Corvo—“</p>
<p>“I need you,” Corvo admitted, his voice hardly yet breaking. “Do you understand?”</p>
<p>Daud was not sure he did.</p>
<p>“I need you, to love me until the day you die,” Corvo continued, and something inside Daud felt weightless. “And I need that day to be a long way away, along with far off and unhappy things.”</p>
<p>Daud nodded, even as they both knew that <em>promises</em> were useless. He would… try. (And that was a lie. He’d do his damned best.) “I can do that,” he rasped, his throat now twice as dry.</p>
<p>Seemingly unbidden, Corvo smiled. Then, he reached for Daud’s hand, and with startling clarity Daud realised that his touch felt familiar. So he’d not dreamt <em>all</em> of that. With Corvo’s hand followed the rest of him, until he was leaning over Daud, there on the bed.</p>
<p>“Then I will do the same,” Corvo murmured. “If you’ll have me.”</p>
<p>“Attano,” Daud delivered as bitingly as possible, though he suspected he fell short and landed on barely teasing, “if you need to ask—“</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” Corvo responded in kind. “Do I?” Whatever was in Daud’s eyes must have been enough, for Corvo leaned in until they were almost touching. He halted, and Daud felt tempted to <em>snarl</em>, only to be thrown off balance when Corvo whispered, his lips brushing Daud’s own, “Perhaps I want to.”</p>
<p>Cursing the Void for his immobility, Daud reached up to fist his fingers in Corvo’s unbuttoned shirt. “Fuck off, Attano,” he rumbled, and felt Corvo chuckle as he pulled him down towards him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>JUST IN CASE WE WERE IN ANY DOUBT THAT THESE TWO ARE THE STUPIDEST FUCKERS IN THE ISLES. God, these morons.</p>
<p>
  <em>FUCK OFF, ATTANO.</em>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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